


A Moment Is All We Are

by orphan_account



Series: Just A Little Something [5]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: And is going through some, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Existential Crisis, Fluff, Grantaire has beliefs, Grantaire needs a hug, M/M, OC Character Death, Or orphan it, enjolras is a good boyfriend, i might take it down later, idk - Freeform, not gonna lie, of my worst fics, that’s one, ’
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 07:03:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19290658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: When he voices these thoughts to Enjolras later that night, the blond will tell him that life is made of moments and that it’s up to them to make these moments add up to something remarkable.But he didn’t know that now, and for the moment, he was content in his boyfriend’s arms.“I love you too,” said Enjolras, voice muffled by Grantaire’s hair.





	A Moment Is All We Are

**Author's Note:**

> This a tribute of sorts, to the girl I never knew. Like a shooting star flying across the sky; so far, so fast, you were gone too soon.

 “Hey.”

“Hey,” answered Grantaire from where he was sitting on the couch, smiling as he felt Enjolras’s arms wrap around his shoulders from behind. “You’re early today,” he said, smiling up at the golden haired angel.

“The manager was in a good mood,” said Enjolras, slipping into the couch beside him, his arms never leaving his shoulders. “Apparently his daughter is getting married or something.”

“Looks like I’m lucky,” he said, forcing a small smile.

Enjolras frowned. “Are you okay?” He asked, too bright for his own good.

“Yeah,” he said, flashing another weak smile. “Why are you asking?”

Enjolras held on to his frown for a moment before breaking into a smile.“Nothing,” he said, shaking his head before getting up.

                                                                        **. . .**

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Asked Enjolras, looking up. He was crouched over his notebook on the living room’s floor, working on a speech for the next rally.

Grantaire was leaning against the wall facing the television, his expression blank as he stared at the moving pictures.

“‘Taire?” He was getting scared now, the brunet rarely zones out like that and when he does, it’s because he’s planning some painting or other. “Grantaire!”

Grantaire jumped in his place and let out  a startled cry. He breathed wildly for a moment, eyes wide as he took in his surroundings. “Hey,“ said Enjolras, setting down his pencil and getting up. “Easy there.”

He walked over to the black-haired cynic and took him by the arm, walking him over to the couch. “Stay here,” he said, getting up. “I’ll get you a cup of water.”

“No,” said Grantaire, grabbing his arm and stopping him in his tracks. “I don’t need anything,” he finished quietly.

“Taire…”

But Grantaire just shook his head. “I’m okay, really.” He smiled, meeting his eyes.

“If you say so…” He relented, reclaiming his seat beside the brunet.

“Grantaire,” he said after a moment of silence, turning to him. “Grantaire, I know something is wrong. Tell me what it is, please. Maybe I’ll be able to help, and if not, then we’ll find someone who can.”

“Bold of you to assume that it can be fixed,” replied Grantaire, voice hollow. “Whatever ‘it’ is.”

He merely wrapped an arm around the brunet and pulled him closer, willing him to understand that it’s okay, that he can talk and not get judged. Grantaire held his silence for some time before he spoke, his tone distant. “Do you remember the girl that died last summer? Jehan’s friend?”

Enjolras nodded. He remembered it clearly; it had been on the twenty-seventh of June, they -he and Grantaire- had been staying with Jehan at his grandmother’s house for the summer but had to go back early due to his work. Just as they were about to leave for the airport, Jehan received a text about their friend. They’d said, through tears, that the girl was his friend’s sister and that she had only been fourteen. She’d gotten electrocuted while plugging in an electric fan.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about her after it happened. I thought about her for every single moment for a month, always praying that she’s in a better place now, happy.”

“After a while I forgot about her though, and I didn’t even realise that I’d forgotten about her until I remembered her.” His voice wasn’t distant anymore, but it had taken a tone Enjolras couldn’t quiet place, somewhere between disappointed and defeated.

“I haven’t been able to her out of my mind for over a month now. It’s just…” He pulled back and tilted his head upwards, closing his eyes.

A sad smile played on his face when he spoke. “It’s just that when I close my eyes, I see a little girl running around, playing and laughing without a worry in the world. She jumps on the furniture when someone says the floor is lava, walks around with her eyes closed to know what being blind is like and she makes her parents look for the monster under the bed.” He turns to look at him and gives a little shrug along a smile tinged with sadness. “This girls grows up to a beautiful young woman who jokes around with her friends.” Tears were running freely down Grantaire’s cheek now and he felt his own eyes starting to tear up.

“She works hard in school and plans for her future. When the summer holiday rolls around she hugs her friends goodbye with promises of staying in touch over the summer, all while saying that she can’t wait to see them next year. And then one day, a couple of weeks into the summer holiday, she’s just hanging around the house when she feels hot. She gets up to plug in the electric fan and then-“ Grantaire opened his eyes and turned to him, tears still making their way down his face. “She’s just gone,” he says, shrugging with one shoulder. He then averted his gaze to the ground, a couple of millimeters from his feet. “A couple of minutes pass and her family starts calling her, when she doesn’t answer her mother sends her sister to call her down. Or maybe the electricity went out when she got electrocuted, I don’t know.”

He met his eyes once again. “But I see a girl who was robbed.” He broke into sobs then and Enjolras pulled him in, allowing him to rest his head against his chest.

“I’m sure she’s somewhere better now,” he murmured, his voice muffled by Grantaire’s curls. “There is a reason she was taken so soon. Maybe things wouldn’t have turned out so good for her.”

“She was fourteen Enjolras!” Cried Grantaire in a muffled voice as a new wave of sobs overtook him. “Fourteen!

“And I wish I can say I’m only upset over her, but… I’m scared, Enjolras.” He pulled back to look up at him as he said the last part, his voice sounding impossibly small. “I’m scared that I’ll die young too, that I’ll just drop dead. I want to live E. Believe it or not, I want to accomplish something in this life.” He finished, his voice small.

“And you will.” Answered Enjolras confidently, cupping the brunette's face. “You’ll create a painting that will make Mona Lisa look like a kindergartener's doodle. A painting that will make Picaso look like nothing but a beginner, or a typical artist at most. You’ll do beautiful things ‘taire. And you _will_ have time. I’ll watch you grow old and wrinkly, watch you shave your hair because you’re starting to bald. Watch you take cocktail of pills each day to stay alive, watch you _live_. You will have time.”

Grantaire smiled and wrapped his arms around his neck, nuzzling his face against it. “I love you,” he murmured, because he can always count on Enjolras to comfort him, even if the relief was temporary. He couldn’t shake off the thought that even if they live an old age -say eighty-five-, life is still short. And if you compare it to the universe’s age… Your life is barely a moment.

When he voices these thoughts to Enjolras later that night, the blond will tell him that life is made of moments and that it’s up to them to make these moments add up to something remarkable.

But he didn’t know that now, and for the moment, he was content in his boyfriend’s arms.

“I love you too,” said Enjolras, voice muffled by Grantaire’s hair.

**Author's Note:**

> I wanna thank my [beta](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EspejoNight28738) for trying to work her magic on this, but alas, it’s beyond repair.  
> .  
> Comments and Kudos are appreciated, though no hate plz!


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